


Somebody get me through this nightmare

by FanFicReader01



Series: Supernatural Cop Buddies [5]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Animal I have become, Blood, Body Horror, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Transformation, connor tries to help, hank is a mental wreck, hank needs a goddamn rest, painful transformation, this got too emotional oops, vampire!Connor, werewolf!Hank
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-07
Updated: 2018-06-07
Packaged: 2019-05-19 08:38:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14870441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FanFicReader01/pseuds/FanFicReader01
Summary: Connor witnesses Hank transforming into a werewolf for the first time. Hopefully, it's also his last time.|| Title taken from Animal I have Become by TDG , which i partly based my story off. together with Skillet's Monster





	Somebody get me through this nightmare

**Author's Note:**

> This fic got out of hand and has become more than just a drabble.  
> Anyway, I want to thank everyone who kudo'd and/or commented on my previous fics :D <3 Rly, rly thank you so much everybody! That makes a writer's day!
> 
> Back to the fic, I hope you'll enjoy this angst. Yes, the ending got also more loaded with feels than initially planned but oh well, sometimes you gotta let the story write itself, change itself.

**_Your son. Death. Because of you. You, you were too weak. Fucking coward! Couldn’t protect! Failed!_ **

 

The thoughts keep piling up in the man’s head. It’s like a never-ending mantra, an itch that can’t be simply scratched yet Hank keeps trying. Oh so desperately. The gun that lays on the table in front him looks just too pleasing all of a sudden.

 

**_That’s right. Waste of time. Not worth. Why are you still breathing, Hank?!_ **

 

The old detective keeps his hands flat on the table, keeping him from taking that gun. His hands are  trembling. His whole body’s aching. When he crooks his fingers, sharp nails scratch into the wood, leaving a small trail.

 “Fuck!” the man curses and somewhere in the living room he can hear his dog whimper.

It’s too early for this. There’s not even a full moon tonight. Yet, Hank can feel it. He can feel the beast scratch on his insides, crawling its way up to the surface. It wants to be set free.

 “No. Can’t let it happen,” claws dig deep into the wood, splintering it heavily. His mind is trying to keep the monsters shut but his body is already giving up. The tense posture he managed to uphold is falling of his shoulders. Instead, he’s uncontrollably shaking. Fuck, it hurts when Hank hears something crack. Its his bones and not just because he’s old.

 He clenches his teeth and feels how his teeth have become even more canine-like than they already are. In a rush he slams the gun away from the table. The thing clatters onto the cold floor. Somehow the thud comes over as a loud, unbearable booming in Hank’s ears.

 This is becoming nasty. Real nasty.

 

**_Die. Kill. Die._ ** **_Kill. Die. Kill. Kill. Kill! Kill!_ **

 

The agonized man now screams out in pain as his bones start shifting heavier underneath his skin. He feels some of his even flesh tear and rip. An ugly sound, an even uglier process and sight to witness.

 “Sumo! Get out of here!” Hank warns his dog. His pet howls in response and it only furthers the transformation process. The lieutenant’s eyes stretch wide open and it almost feels like they could pop out of his head in a sec. Hank growls and pants heavily as he tries to stop himself from becoming a beast. With a now blurred, distorted vision he sees how his hands have evolved to literal claws, fur starting to sprout out of every inch of his skin. Now the sound of cloth ripping is heard too.

 He bites down on his hand drawing some serious, almost black blood, hoping the shock will stop the mutation but it only seems to infuriate the beast inside him more.

 

**_Haank. Don’t fight it. Let. Me. Out. Now. Hank.. Hank!_ **

 

“Hank?!” somewhere in the back of the K9 detective’s troubled mind, he hears a familiar voice.

_Cole, is that you? No, that can’t be._

 “G-Get away f-from me,” the werewolf snarls but his voice cracks and sounds _hurt_.

“It’s me. Connor,” says the voice. Now Hank can sense the other man. He can smell a vampire. A vampire. What’s that bloodsucker doing in his forsaken home?

 “GET OUT!” Hank’s spats, coughing up blood. When he spits the fluid out, some teeth come along with it. Disgusting.

 When his bloodshot darkened eyes meet warm, even friendly, brown eyes. Sharp flashes of the past remind the madman who this vampire actually is.

 _Connor_.

 

\--

 

When Connor returned home, he didn’t expect to find the lieutenant like _this_. He knew from the very beginning his partner was a werewolf, yet he had never seen the animal side of the man. Well, sometimes it showed through the grumpy detective’s behaviour but this was unlike any of that.

 Hank looks downright _monstrous_ now.

Connor gulps at the sight and takes a few steps back. Sumo must’ve hide somewhere in the house already and the vampire should too but he can’t look away nor move any further away than this.

Connor can’t help but be actually intrigued by this transformation. Well, that’s his first thought. Soon a second thing goes through him and it pierces right through his undead heart: _hurt_.

He looks at his partner who has thrown his chair away. It’s with such force, the chair just breaks on contact with the marble floor.

The werewolf’s body is shocking unnaturally. Constant cracks of bones and _human_ screams of suffering fill the otherwise painfully silent kitchen. Connor takes in a nauseating smell. A mix of blood, sweat, wolf and more feral scents all mixed up.

 From what Connor deducts, Hank’s in a fight with himself and whatever is locked up in his chest. It’s probably not just the actual werewolf coming out, but also layers and layers of guilt and grief.

 And this, this _hurts_ the vampire. It hurts Connor to see his friend and partner like that, tortured and in pain of his own being.

 Is there something he could do to help? To bring the human back. When the vampire cautiously approaches the shapeshifting man he’s met with a sharp claw slicing his way. Connor dodges in time and jumps back. He hisses when he notices the small cut on his cheek.

 

\--

 

_Connor!_

 

“You-, You can’t stop it. The beast… Too, too strong,” in a short second Hank regains his speech and drawls out a warning. He really doesn’t want to hurt his partner.

  _Please, for your own sake you stupid bloodsucker._

Hank’s starting to lose his consciousness. The wolf inside is taking fully control over him and his body. The last time the lieutenant turned into a mindless beast it was during the accident. When he woke as a human again, his son was gone and it was his fault. From that day on, he decided to keep the wolf locked up forever. The darn beast only caused mayhem, nothing more, nothing less.

_I’m sorry._

\--

 

Connor has fallen back, resting his back against the cupboard. In front of him stands a towering, intimidating wolf. A thick coat of obsidian fur, alternated with some silverfish grey strands of hair, cover its massive body. Its own blood, mixed with saliva spills from its muzzle. Sharp, glistening predatory teeth are bared in an aggressive way. 

 Two hellish blue eyes with blood coloured drops like spilled ink gawk at him.

Whatever remains of Hank, the human, lays in shreds behind the werewolf. Torn cloth, blood, a couple of outgrown teeth and even something that looks like skin shedding.  

 “H-Hank? Is that you?” Connor stammers as he presses himself closer towards the cupboard. Hesitatingly he sticks out his hand, trying to touch the snout. The wolf _bites_ but Connor kind of expected it so he’s just in time retreating his hand. In his own defence, the vampire shows his own fangs that’ve grow longer and sharper. His pupils have turned wine red. Before the werewolf can go in for a second attack, Connor rolls away and quickly goes for the backdoor he came in from. He could’ve gone to another part of the house but he doesn’t want Sumo to be in danger. And if Hank returns to his human form, Connor knows Hank would never forgive himself hurting his own beloved pet.

 “Sumo, I think I’m going to take your owner for a walk in the park,” the vampire alerts the dog.

 

\--

 

_Stupid bloodsucker. You’re still here? Still fighting, huh?_

In the deepest pits of Hank’s mind, the man regains some consciousness again. It feels like he’s floating towards the surface of a blackened well of oily bile. The soothing voice of his vampire partner is starting to bring him back again. It’s time he should reclaim his body. He gets back up and starts fighting once more with renewed power and motivation. He doesn’t want to let Connor down. After all, Connor’s really someone worth fighting for.

 

\--

 

Connor lays flat on the wet grass. The werewolf has him pinned to it. Strong claws are like heavy chains around his wrists. Pinching harder and the monster could crush his bones.

 Hot, stinky saliva drip from the wolf’s jaw onto Connor’s face. Rain washes the filth away. When the strength of the grip around his wrists weakens, Connor dares to open his eyes again.

The werewolf’s eyes have _softened_ , if only for a bit. Its attitude is less dominating as well now.

 “A-Are you back? Hank?” Connor manages a smile of relief. The wolf closes its mouth and opens it again. A frustrated growl leaves its muzzle. It looks like Hank’s trying to reach out from within and pleading.

 “It’s alright, buddy,” Connor talks to him as if he’s talking to Sumo. Maybe he should see this monster that’s weighing on him just as a big, big bad and angry dog.

 

\--

 

Hank manages to win back some control, although with quite the struggle. He fully retreats his claws from his friend’s arms. He sees the harmed flesh underneath it. He did that. He hurt Connor. It makes Hank sick in the stomach.

 While his thoughts start tumbling down the path of self-loathing, they get interrupted by an unsuspected gesture from the vampire.

 A cool hand has come to rest on his rough face.

 “It’s me, Hank. Connor, your friend. Your partner in crime. Your lover.” Internally, Hank is smiling. He wants to hear that sweet voice again and make him forget he’s momentarily stuck in his own skin. He yearns to hear Connor talk him back to normal.

 

**_No. No. No. No!!!!!!_ **

 

\--

 

While Connor gently lets his fingers comb through the lieutenant’s wolf face, he pulls back when he notices the shift from a calm pose to an aggressive one. There’s that threatening snarl again, the pull of the werewolf’s upper lip. The vampire uses the slight stutter of the werewolf to crouch from underneath its body. Connor, starting to actually get fed up with the beast’s anger, partly _Hank’s_ anger, stops trying to only defend himself. Instead he goes in full offence and before the werewolf can progress what’s happening, the vampire has jumped on its back, his arms trying to get around the monster’s neck.

 “Shit! Listen up, we were just getting so far! I’m not letting you take over my friend! You hear that?!” Connor _curses_. He sighs and with quite some regret he digs his own sharp nails into the lieutenant’s neck. Not deep enough to draw too much blood but enough to make the beast feel it. In response he gets a deep howl. And deep within its throat, it’s almost like Connor can hear Hank call out for help.

 The beast becomes unstable and tries to shake the vampire off of him but Connor doesn’t let go easily.

“Get back to your senses, Hank! Don’t let this monster take from you! You’re better than this!” Connor screams desperately and now also tries wrapping his legs around the beast’s bulky body.

The werewolf falls back against a tree and Connor’s glad he’s built of more than just a fragile spine or he might’ve been crushed under the weight. He doesn’t want to let go of Hank.

 “Hank. Please, Hank! Can you hear me? O-Or are you gone? I-, I need you,” Connor’s pleas end in a muffled sniffs against the thick fur pressing against his face.

The werewolf doesn’t move anymore. It just lies there, against the tree with Connor still wrapped around its body.

 

\--

 

_Hank._

That’s me, the lieutenant thinks. The storm is starting to lay down. Suddenly there’s serenity in his head again. No more fighting, no more beasts to tame.

Through the wolf’s eyes Hank watches the world anew. It’s raining and they seem to be in a park.  Luckily for them, there’s no sane human out at this hour of the day. Damn, Hank lost track of the time.

 When he feels something on his back, he tries to move his exhausted, clumsy body. He hears someone gasp for breath. Tired, Hank falls over. His sight becomes blurry again. When he stares at his hands, he sees he’s hasn’t returned to his human shape yet. Fuck. Did he lose after all?

 “Hank?”

 _Connor. You’re still here?_ He turns his head and sees his friend. A filthy cheek, beat up clothes but a warm and welcoming smile. There are tears in Connor’s eyes. Or are those just raindrops?

  _Connor, are you crying?_

This feels almost too unreal. And then that careful, soft hug also feels too unreal and damn, he doesn’t deserve this kind of affection.

 “Hank, thank god you’re back,” Connor whispers as he tightens the hug. “I missed you.”

The smaller man rests his head against Hank’s. Then his hand start to stroke the rigid fur, calming Hank’ now trembling body.

 The old detective dares to close his eyes. He’s calm, he’s safe. He can do this. However, he reopens his eyes again when he feels something cover him. It’s Connor’s jacket.

 “You’re completely back,” Connor smiles at him. Hank can see it clear now. Those are tears.

 

\--

 

Once they’ve made their way back home, Connor quickly prepares the bath and takes out the medical kit. Hank’s wound needs to be disinfected first. While Connor takes out the necessary tools, he quickly glances over at the lieutenant and finds the man glaring at him.

 “I’m so sorry, Connor,” Hank mutters. He sounds ashamed.

“It’s alright. What matters now is that you’re back here with me and that I’m going to patch you up.”

 “You’re too damn kind for me, you know that?”

“Give me your hand, please. It looks heavily wounded,” Connor says, ignoring Hank’s comment.

Hank growls and bites his lip when Connor disinfects the bite wound. He flinches when the vampire stitches the wound up and puts a bandage around the hand. Some blood still seeps through the white.

 “That will do for now,” Connor mutters, more to himself than to Hank. He looks pleased by the result. With some failed struggle on Hank’s side, the vampire puts the lieutenant in the bathtub. With utmost care and gentle hands he starts washing Hank’s back.

 “Oh, and Connor?”

“Yes?”

 “I… Thank you. For saving me… from myself.”

“You seriously had me scared back there,” Connor admits. He stops kneading the soap into the lieutenant’s messy hair. He lets his confession down on them with silence.

 “You, scared?” Hank cackles, slightly amused but mostly worried.

“Yes. You really didn’t seem like you. I was so scared of losing you. Losing the person I love.” Hank gives Connor a stunned look.

  “You seemed so lost, it hurt me,” Connor recalls, holding back a sob. Instead, he continues washing the man’s hair and washes it down with a flush of warm water.

 “Maybe I was. What you saw there, was a part of me that I didn’t want you to see,” Hank mutters.

“It’s alright. Everyone has their demons.” Connor now takes out a towel.

 “But I don’t want to pose a possible threat to you ever again. I could’ve killed you,” Hank counters as he brusquely grabs the towel from his partner’s hands. The two exchange an intense look.

 “So, you have your demons too, huh?” Hank questions.

The vampire nods. “Yes. Shattered fragments of all the persons who I used to be sometimes resurface.”

 

\--

 

Once properly dressed for the night, Hank and Connor retreat to the bedroom. This time Connor’s the big spoon and Hank doesn’t mind at all.

 “I still love you, Hank,” Connor murmurs against the other man’s neck. The random declaration makes Hank turns around so he faces his lover. Brown eyes meet blue ones.

 “Even after what you saw? After you’ve seen what I’m capable of when I’m not in control anymore?”

“Even then,” Connor has an easy-going smile on his sweet lips.

Hank now carefully traces the small scar on the vampire’s cheek. The scar he’s caused. “It doesn’t really hurt,” Connor reassures him.

 “Fuck, Connor ,I want you to do me a favour.”

“Of course.”

 “If this horrible situation… would ever happen again, I want _you_ to be the one to take me down. Understood?”

 “Y-You’re implying I should-,” Connor gasps in disbelief, his voice failing him. Hank can’t be real about that. No way.

“ _Understood?_ ” Hank growls. There’s a heavy lump nestling in his throat.

 Connor sighs and shakes his head: “I don’t think I’d have it in me to lose you like that, Hank.”

“Fucking hell,” then Hank loses it. Uncontrollable tears find their way up his eyes. He cries and cries and Connor hugs him, cradles him.

 “Shh… I’m here. Look, when-, when the situation would ever occur again, I’ll be there to bring you back. I’ll promise, Hank. I love you too much to lose you like that. No, I will bring you back. You hear me? I’ll bring you back,” Connor whispers back, still rubbing circles over his lover’s back.

 “I’ve heard you,” Hank snivels. “You’ll bring me back.”

“I’ll bring you back.”


End file.
